


His Ghost

by Crypterion_Moon



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Cyborgs, Favorite Movie AU, Gen, Inspired by Ghost in the Shell, Regret, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypterion_Moon/pseuds/Crypterion_Moon
Summary: He is there in person but not in spirit. Tim's presence is now a ghost to them, never quite there since he lost his body completely. He was now, no more than a living doll, a battle machine that performed everything to the utmost efficiency. They fear is just that, more machine than human, more weapon than that vigilante boy the used to know.An Cyborg AU that is inspired by my favorite movie, the original version





	His Ghost

From this high up, Tim could detect everything. The city pollution levels were still high, carbon dioxide, traces of methane and carbon monoxide rose into a thin smog above the city, contained their via collecting vacuums that were planted over the city’s heights. Though still significant, the pollution was gradually reducing with the environmental conservation projects Wayne Industries undertook. They would never be perfect and clean but they can do their best. In some ways, Tim is the first human project that relied purely on sunlight and other energy outlets to function.  
He sat atop the highest points each day, collecting power for his body, and going out each night to patrol and protect the citizens of Gotham.  
He did not need to eat, nor did he feel exhaustion, an efficient body at a cost. As dusk finally fell and the sun reached below the horizon, Tim rose to his feet. He cast aside his jacket and let the wind cool the cold metal of his body. Activity began to rise as the night fell and it didn’t take long for there to be trouble. The sirens were blaring, voices sounded over the police communications.  
Tim brought up the display unit built into his arm.

“Tim...”Batman’s voice sounded gravely in what used to be his ear, now a communication and audio input device.

“Drive-by shoot-out in East Harlem, Suspects are fleeing in a black SUV marked GDV 8206 heading towards the docks,” Tim jumped over the edge and hurtled downwards towards the next building. His measured his landing so that it made minimal impact, rolling into his momentum as he took off. 

“Take Robin, and intercept at the Bridge if I do not reach them before,” Tim closed off the connection before either Batman or Robin had a chance to say anything. He ran tirelessly on, picking up speed until he was at the limit this body would allow, but even a brief moment of increased velocity was worth the power usage. He could see the SUV swerving dangerously through traffic in an effort to shake the police.  
They were still several miles away from Batman and Robin’s intercept point, Tim had time now.  
The gears in his eyes whirred and in his visuals, he could pick up two suspects at the front, a driver and a shooter, further narrowing found four more signatures within the vehicle. All carrying heavy gunpower, machine and rifles, shotguns and more stored in the back with them. Threat level, significant.

Tim turned his attention back to the path ahead of him. The row of buildings ended in a dip, a park situating itself between this building and the other one taller above him. It was just so that it made an opportune moment. He temporarily boosted himself and as he stepped onto the edge, he launched himself from that point over and onto the road below. He landed heavily enough to dent the asphalt a great deal, slabs of the material turning upwards around his feet.  
The van braked abruptly but could stop before Tim could smash the front hard enough the whole thing creaked as it went around him like it was made of paper.  
The two at the front were unconscious now, leaving the last four at the back to step out, no doubt, disorientated.

They cursed as the saw a porcelain white young man stepping around the wreckage and fired recklessly. Their aim was untrained and wild. Tim was aware of the by-standers within the vicinity, a busy street was a bad place to have a fire fight.  
So he acted quickly, skipping and phasing in and out of sight between bullets, without a cape to rely on he risked damage to his casing. But his augmented senses allowed for little contact. 

First man received a hard knee to the stomach that incapacitated him immediately, retching all over the gravel. The next, stood no more than a ten feet away, fired in panic. Tim could see the bullets like red dots on his sensors passing him as he dodged each one. One armored foot kicked out, striking the gunman in the sternum so hard that he flew backwards into the van, making a man sized dent in the body of the vehicle. He groaned as he hit the ground, but out cold only a second later.  
The whole time, Tim was aware of the remaining two circling around in hopes of taking him by surprise, but his sensors had already picked up their movements before he engaged the second criminal.  
They came at him, a crowbar and a steel bat in their respective hands. For a moment, he considered how they’d scratch up the paint job, a human thought he allowed himself before Tim let his elbows meet their faces.  
The crunch of bone was audible as their groans as the men held their broken noses. Tim wasted no time as he turned and grabbed one by the collar, tossing him right over the SUV and over the crowd into the wall. The last regained his balance and attempted once more to strike with his crowbar, it did not get far before his wrist was encased in cold metal, so cold it shocked him as he stared at the boy in front of him. Taking note of the circuitry that ran subtly between the wider gaps in the shell, the perfection in his figure that was beyond human and the bluest eyes, devoid of emotion.  
He realized that wasn’t armor or a body suit he was wearing.

“The hell are you?”

He the answer he got was a solid punch to the face that felt like being hit by a thirty pound dumbbell, and being tossed into the door of the SUV, creating another dent in the shell. The first man, was getting up then, having vacated his stomach and immediately began firing at Tim, this time, Tim couldn’t move away with so many people behind him. He took five shots to his torso and shoulder and felt nothing. It was always a good thing, he thought, pain distracts, he needed to act fast, which he did, ignoring the liquid that poured out from the bullet holes, he dashed forwards, knocking the handgun from the gunman’s hand and sending the heal of his hand up, slamming into his chin.  
Tim whirled around to add momentum into the next strike, delivering a straight punch into the man’s gut. He’d feel that for sure in the morning.  
With that, they were all down and just in time for the police to arrive. Gordon stepped out of the first car, immediately setting his sights on the figure standing over the suspects, his back to them. When Tim looked over his shoulder, their eyes met briefly. He nodded curtly and Gordon returned it in kind. Wordlessly, the boy left, running straight towards a building, his mechanical hands scaling its walls with ease as Gordon watched on with pity.

“Poor kid.”

=====================================================

Bruce frowned as he removed the third bullet from Tim’s shoulder.

“I really wish you’d stop doing that, running off and taking things on alone. I know you can’t feel pain but it doesn’t mean you can be reckless. If they put one in your head, I don’t know if...”

Bruce doesn’t want to think about what would happen if they damaged the last part of Tim that was him, the last part that was human. Tim looked up at him but said nothing, those blue eyes just scanning him, possibly trying to process the emotions on Bruce’s face. He probably can’t because they’d always been like that, emotionally stunted. It was much worse now, Tim was less human and more...machine than before, it was much more obvious at times like these when Tim tried to analyse what Bruce was feeling.

The old Tim would have known right away.

Damian stood by the stairs of the cave, the guilt seeping from him was palpable. He used to love calling Drake inefficient, now he was the most efficient, no need to sleep, no need to eat, no need to feel. A machine. He got partially what he had wished, Drake was dead, replaced by this shell of him. If he was in there, he was a fading spirit.  
He’d take back those words if it meant that they could have the boy back, save him from the incident. Damian felt sick, thinking back on it.  
How Drake’s body was almost completely eaten away by the time they got to him. He shouldn’t have gone alone, but he needed to prove himself. He needed to prove that he wasn’t worthless, and it cost them all dearly.

Drake gripped Bruce by the arm, not tightly enough to break it but it was a light squeeze, almost as if...he was reassuring Bruce.  
But whatever it was that sparked in his eyes for the instant was gone the next. He said nothing even as he stood up as the last bullet was removed and returned to his station, to his repair pod. Dick and Jason had just arrived, watching with sad eyes. Bruce could understand, they all missed him.


End file.
